


A Peculiar Virtue

by Stasia



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, M/M, snupin - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-20
Updated: 2011-05-20
Packaged: 2017-10-19 14:46:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/202004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stasia/pseuds/Stasia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Betrayal is… a universal thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Peculiar Virtue

_FIDELITY, n. A virtue peculiar to those who are about to be betrayed._ – Ambrose Bierce

Remus was surprised to see that Greyback was meeting with someone. The pack leader didn’t usually bring strangers near the pack’s camping grounds; he preferred to let people think that the campground was littered with half-eaten bodies rather than half-washed clothes. Remus twisted to unkink his back and walked to the nearest campfire. He’d gathered a cup of hot tea and a bowl of the thin porridge they had for breakfast when Greyback led the stranger past him.

It was Snape.

Remus couldn’t stop the snarl that rose to his lips, and Greyback turned to look at him, face alight.

“That’s right. You two know each other.” He smirked back and forth between them then turned to Snape. “I’ll leave you in our resident _wizard’s_ hands, then. He’ll be able to show you everything the Dark Lord needs.” With one last smirk at Remus, Greyback strode towards the tent he’d claimed as his own.

“Why shouldn’t I just kill you?” Remus growled.

Snape lifted his chin and settled his shoulders, tucking his hands into his sleeves. “You’ve no death wish? You’re thinking past the immediate future for once, unusual though that might be for a Gryffindor? Why do you think I care why you do anything?” He glanced away. “I know why you’re here.”

Remus stiffened. He’d managed to convince Greyback that he had been following ‘the scent of his bitch’ that night at Hogwarts, but he knew most of the pack still distrusted him. “Not here,” he said. Draining his teacup, he put it and the still full bowl down near the cooking pots and walked away towards the forest. The sounds of Snape following him made him feel sick.

Once they were deep enough in the trees to be private, he turned. “What do you want? I mean, what does the… Dark Lord want?”

Snape shook his hair back from his face. “I have need of several herbs and plants that only grow in this forest. I will need your help in gathering them.” He pulled a parchment list from his sleeve. “I will show you which plants they are; I expect you to have gathered the required amount by the time I return.”

Remus started to snap that he wasn’t anyone’s lapdog or slavey when his attention was caught by the list of plants. He recognised enough of them to know that Snape was planning on brewing Wolfsbane. His eyes lifted to Snape’s face. “Snape? What’s this?”

“It’s a list. I knew you were slow, Lupin, but it appears that living in that festering hole of a ‘camp’ has rotted whatever mind you had.” Snape’s voice was sharp, but his eyes were… not. Remus tilted his head to the side and thought furiously.

“I can see it’s a list, thank you Snape.” To cover his thoughts, he took the list and pretended to read it over. Snape’s long fingered hand reached over and tapped the centre word of the first line.

“ _Revelio,_ ” he whispered, and the sheet changed to a list of people’s names. “Get the required amounts for me by the time I return or I will see to it that the Dark Lord will know it is you he must punish.”

Remus blinked up at him, trying to think of what to say next. “I—“ he swallowed with a suddenly dry throat. “What do they look like?”

Severus whispered “ _Obscuro_ ”, turned and moved further into the woods. “I don’t expect you can gather one of those ingredients. For that one only, you may simply mark the place where you’ve found it.”

That evening, Remus stared at the disguised list. He had no reason to trust Snape, none at all. However, even if this information were false, just knowing what Voldemort wanted the Order to believe could be very useful. Making up his mind, he tucked the parchment in his pocket and went to find Greyback. It was time to visit Tonks again.

Once at Tonks’ flat, he sent his Patronus to call Harry and the rest of the Order. They still used Grimmauld Place, but more as a cover than anything else. They’d taken to meeting in random places in the hopes that if no one but the Order members knew where they were meeting, their meetings would be safer. It hadn’t seemed to work yet; every third or fourth meeting, they’d see Death Eaters hovering around their intended meeting site.

At the empty Muggle house Harry had chosen for this meeting, Remus turned over the list and explained how he’d come by it. Harry was, predictably, all for ignoring the information, but Arthur and Alastor seemed to be intrigued – Alastor certainly understood the importance of knowing what the other side wanted you to know as a way of determining the veracity of other information.

Hermione quickly copied out the list and gave Remus back his original. “I wonder why he’d be brewing the Wolfsbane,” she said. Her eyes rested on him and Remus shrugged.

“Greyback’s forbidden it, so he can’t mean it for this pack. I can’t think of any other reason. Maybe he just knew he could get my attention with it?” Hermione nodded, but he didn’t think she was convinced. He wasn’t quite convinced, himself. If it had all been a cover, simply to get his attention, then showing him the plants specifically and ensuring that he had adequate magically protected bags for his harvest seemed excessive.

Ultimately, he went back with Tonks and spent the night. He tried not to allow his own confusion to darken the small bits of time he could snatch with her. All he’d allow them to do was curl up together and sleep, though; he felt like the darkness swirling around him would leach through his skin and taint her.

Snape didn’t return for two weeks, and Remus began to wonder if the list hadn’t been a ruse after all. He just couldn’t think of what could be gained by giving him false information. Surely Snape, and Voldemort, knew that the Order triple checked all the information they gathered.

When Snape did return, he nodded sharply at Remus before spending more than two hours in private with Greyback. Once he had finished his business, he strode across the camp, his dark robes a strong counterpoint to the ragged shapes around him.

“Did you gather my plants?” His voice was cold and his eyes were fixed somewhere to Remus’ right.

“Yes.” Remus started to duck into his tent, but Snape stopped him.

“Show me where the other plant is; I need to harvest that now.” He glanced at Remus’ face, then away. “There isn’t much time.”

In the Forest, Snape’s stiff demeanour loosened. Remus was about to leave him at the marked aconite plants, when Snape’s voice stopped him.

“I have another list.”

Remus turned to see Snape’s hand extended, holding a folded parchment. While he read it, Snape tucked a large branch of the plant into a filmy pouch.

“Snape, I don’t know what half of these are.” Remus ran his finger down the list. “Are you sure these even grow in the Forest?”

Snape nodded, then tapped the list, revealing the hidden messages underneath. “I’ll show you where they are, since you clearly never paid attention in Herbology.”

Remus, staring at the words ‘Horcrux’ and ‘Ravenclaw’, managed to choke out, “I’ll have you know I got top marks in Herbology. These are just…” he swallowed and stared at Snape. “These are just things I didn’t think really… grew here.”

Snape tapped the list again. “They’re mostly imported, but you should still recognise them.” He closed his eyes for a minute and Remus was struck by how exhausted he looked. Shaking his head – pity for Albus’ murderer, now? – he sighed.

“I have some stew, back at the camp, if you’re hungry.”

Snape’s eyes snapped open, filled with something that Remus couldn’t identify before it slid back under the usual mask Remus saw on Snape’s face. “Why would you—would I eat anything that came from that disgusting communal pot you animals cook in?”

Remus raised his brows. “Actually, I have a pot in my tent; most of us singletons cook for ourselves.” He paused, unsure why he was pushing this. “Unless you want to eat from the communal pot.”

Snape looked down at his feet. “I have … I brought something else.” He pulled something from his pocket and placed it on the ground. A quick _engorgio_ later, Remus gazed at a smallish trunk filled with parcels of food.

“Snape?”

Snape wouldn’t meet his eyes. “If you are to find the items on that list, you’ll need more to eat than you can get here.”

Remus felt himself soften against his will. “Come. I’ll make us lunch.”

***

Harry paled, this time, when he saw the list. “How does he know about these?” he snapped. At his side, Hermione rested her hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off. “No one is supposed to know about these.”

Minerva, who’d paled at the sight of the hidden list, nodded at Remus. “I think it’s not important how he found out, but what we’re to do about it.” Her voice was a mixture of starch and horror. “Mr Potter, if there is information you have that could be useful to the rest of us, I believe now is the time to enlighten us.”

Harry snarled, but, after a glance at the implacable look on Minerva’s face, acquiesced.

That evening, Remus didn’t go back to Tonks’ flat with her, even though her sad face made him twist in guilt. He couldn’t see getting to sleep in any kind of comfort while Snape – _Severus_ —was in that madman’s camp, risking his life daily. He only hoped Severus wouldn’t wait another two weeks before he visited again.

***

Severus began visiting the werewolf camp almost every day. He spent the beginning of every visit with Greyback, but as time passed, those visits became shorter and more perfunctory. The rest of his time was spent with Remus, either talking quietly in Remus’ tent or wandering through the Forest looking for new and interesting plants to add to Severus’ ever-growing collection.

He didn’t always have information, but did always have something to ease Remus’ time living in the wild.

Five days before the full moon, Severus appeared late at night, Apparating directly into Remus’ tent.

Remus had his wand out and pointed at the intruder before he was fully awake. “Severus?” he whispered, once he could focus properly. “What are you doing here?” Yawning, he tucked his wand back under his pillow.

Severus pulled a small cauldron from beneath his cloak. “I’ve brought you this. It’s only enough for you, and the Dark Lord can’t know I’ve made it.”

Remus shook his head. “Severus – thank you. But this is terribly risky.”

Severus pinched his lips together, and said, “You said you hated the change, not knowing what you’ve done. Just… take it.” As soon as Remus took the cauldron, Severus Disapparated, leaving Remus confused and filled with a rush of feeling he couldn’t quite identify. If it had been about Tonks, he’d have called it caring or maybe affection, but this was Severus, so that couldn’t really be what he was feeling.

He poured a serving of the Wolfsbane into his only cup, forced himself to swallow, then tucked the cauldron under his bed, disguising it with a quick _invisio._

Every day up till the full moon, Remus expected to see Severus striding across the camp, but he never came. Remus began to wonder if Voldemort had discovered Severus’ actions; the wave of fear and anger that filled him when he thought about Severus, who’d been clearly nothing but brave in the face of difficulty and evil, being tortured, horrified him.

He spent the full moon chasing his pack mates, not allowing his human mind to force him to turn up his wolf’s nose at things he’d have eaten happily the month before, and worrying about Severus.

He woke up the next morning to the scent of fresh tea. After a few confused moments, while he tried to figure out how he’d gotten into bed, let alone why he didn’t ache the way he did usually, he turned his head.

”Severus. You’re here.” Remus struggled to sit up, but Severus pushed him back down.

“Be still. Clearly the Wolfsbane doesn’t stop you from injuring yourself.” The sharp tone in Severus’ voice was at odds with the gentle way his hands lifted Remus’ head and held the teacup to his mouth. “I know you’ll want this first.”

Remus smiled. Severus had teased him many times about how much he wanted tea – it had been the one thing he’d purchase in London when he visited the Order.

“I was worried about you.” Remus pressed his lips together. He hadn’t meant to say anything; he knew that Severus wouldn’t care about how his emotions were changing.

Severus levered him upright and waved his wand at the pillow, making it hold Remus up. “I was busy,” he responded. “I have another list for you.”

“Ah.” Remus told himself that he’d known Severus was only using him as a conduit to the Order. Hearing it made clear was no reason to feel bad. At least Severus was helping him in the meantime.

***

While everyone else in the Order was busy with the latest list, Remus cornered Harry and Minerva. They were using Grimmauld Place for the first time in months, and he was surprised at how much darker the house felt than the werewolf camp did.

“I want you to promise me something.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets to hide his nervousness.

“Anything, Remus.” Harry said, his eyes bright. Remus was surprised, and a bit appalled, to realise that Harry was as tall as he, now. At his side, Minerva tilted her head and looked curious.

“I want you to promise me that, no matter what happens to me, you’ll help Sev—Snape, when this is all over.” He glanced over at the table; Ron seemed to be trying to calm Hermione, who was yelling at Alastor. “He’s risked a lot to bring us this information, and we should repay that.” Remus leaned against the wall and turned back to Harry and Minerva.

Minerva’s face flickered with an emotion almost too quickly for Remus to identify it, and Remus’ chest constricted. It had looked like anger.

“No,” Harry snarled. “He’s a disgusting murderer, and he can take what’s coming to him.” He crossed his arms and tilted his chin up. “Killing him would be easier than killing the other people I’ve had to since this whole thing started. At least in his case it would be justified.”

“Harry,” began Remus, not sure what exactly to say and deeply dismayed at how matter-of-fact Harry seemed to be about murder and death. “This is important. He’s given us all this information, he’s given me the Wolfsbane. He’s helping, and we can’t abandon him.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “You sound awfully concerned about him, Remus. Does Tonks know?” His voice was low and vicious.

Remus stepped back, feeling confused.

“Do I know what?” Tonks had come from the kitchen without Remus noticing and stood in the door leading to the corridor they were standing in.

“That murderer Snape is pretending to help your—Remus,” Harry said. He sounded almost like he was crowing, and Remus glanced away from Tonks to look at Minerva, who’d faded back against the wall herself. Her face was a smooth mask, but she wouldn’t meet Remus’ eyes.

“He’s helping Remus?” Tonks came closer and wrapped her arms around Remus’ waist. “You didn’t tell me that, love. I know he’s helping us – the Headmistress confirmed that we’ve managed to save everyone who was on those lists you’ve been bringing.”

Remus, who hadn’t stopped looking at Minerva, felt himself go cold. She’d stilled just slightly, a movement that someone who wasn’t living with almost fifty near-animals might not have noticed. He turned to Tonks.

“You’ve saved them all? I thought the Aurors were stretched too thin for that.”

“Oh, Professor McGonagall knew a really wicked spell – we gathered up the families we couldn’t protect in their homes and hid them. She used the spell to shield the place we’re using to hide them.” Tonks leaned her head on Remus’ shoulder. He shuddered at a momentary wish that it was Severus’ head, instead.

Closing his eyes and pulling in as deep a breath as he could, he slung an arm around Tonks and said, “Harry. I know you don’t want to do this, but we have to. We’re the good guys, we have to be. Snape is helping us, at great personal risk to himself; we can’t leave him there without any protection.”

Harry’s face twisted with anger, but Minerva put her hand on his arm. “Mr Potter, Remus is right. It is not right to refuse to help someone who’s doing so much. I … I miss Albus as well, and I don’t think that he would want us to abandon someone who is reaching out to us in this way.” She kept her eyes on Harry’s face until he nodded, then turned back to Remus and Tonks. “You two should take some time together. We’ll be a little while with this list, Remus. Stay the night here. You can tell your—Greyback that you wanted some time with your fiancée. Surely he’ll understand that.”

Remus looked away to hide his rush of unwillingness; he didn’t want to stay, and he especially didn’t want to remind Greyback that he had any connection to the Order.

“Yes,” he said, keeping his voice light, “that sounds lovely.”

Late that night, he dragged the top blanket off of a sleeping Tonks and stood wrapped in it at the window. The square outside looked unrelentingly Muggle, with streetlights flickering and shadows still in the corners. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the cool glass, trying to force himself to forget that, in the heat of the bed with Tonks, he’d only been able to come after picturing Severus’ face, imagining it flushed with pleasure, the eyes dark and lust-filled.

He’d thought he’d managed to purge himself of the urge to have sex with men years before. When he’d been a teenager, he’d hidden his attraction to other boys more assiduously than he’d hidden his lycanthropy. After the Potters’ deaths, and Sirius’ betrayal, hiding things had seemed ridiculous, and he’d spent several years screwing anything and anyone who’d look at him twice. However, since he’d been called back to Hogwarts, since Harry’s third year, he’d struggled to put his past behind him. It seemed the worst luck that it was haunting him now, and about this person in particular.

As he turned to go back to the bed, he stopped. One of the shadows wasn’t still; it flickered and curled like fabric. For one heart stopping moment he thought it was a Dementor, but a sudden flare of heat in his chest told him differently.

It was Severus.

***

It wasn’t until the morning after the next Change that Remus managed to gather the courage to tell Severus that he’d bargained for protection. He sat up, securely wrapped in a heating charm and curled his fingers around the mug of hot tea Severus had just handed him.

“Severus,” he began, carefully focusing on the steam rising from his mug, “I spoke to Minerva and Harry about, er,” he waved his hand gently at the tea, and the small cauldron sitting just past his feet. “They said they’d take care of things. Of you.”

Severus shot him a look, then went back to stroking healing cream into Remus’ right leg. “You think they’ll do it?” His voice was low and sceptical.

Remus shrugged. “Minerva will make sure Harry does, I think. She seemed more willing.” He smiled, a little sadly. “I don’t think Harry will ever forgive you, though.”

“I don’t wish forgiveness, most especially not his.” The tent was silent; the only sounds were the distant cries of the pups of the pack playing in the stream several clearings away. The pack had roamed far this full moon – Greyback had led them to a village and had them terrorise the inhabitants all night. The wolves had barely made it back to camp before changing back. Remus thought he and Severus might be the only ones awake besides the littler ones. He hoped someone responsible was with the pups.

Knowing that this would only complicate things, that this action was something he’d never be able to explain to anyone, he set the tea mug aside and deliberately reached for Severus. He slid his fingers around the curve of Severus’ shoulder under his robes and pulled his face close.

In the one moment before their lips met, his eyes caught Severus’; the heat and hope filling them surged through him until he felt like he was on fire.

It wasn’t long before Severus’ mouth on his made that seem cold.

***

Remus spent the next month in a daze. Severus spent every night with him, and in the week before the full moon, nearly every day. Only once had Remus had to bring something to the Order, and he’d managed to miss seeing Tonks. He knew he’d have to tell her something, but just now he couldn’t think of anything to say. Maybe he’d be able to think of something later.

His vague attempts at thinking of a way to tell her that he was hopelessly in love with someone else came to a stunned halt when he was called to meet with the whole pack by Greyback on the night of the full moon.

“Well, the Dark Lord has chosen his time. We’re going to be free tonight – free to show the stinking, puerile bags of meat what we can really do.” He wiped his chin and Remus shuddered when he realised Greyback had been drooling. Around him, the pack began cheering and shouting. Remus allowed the buffeting to move him backwards, out of the crowd and towards his tent. Did Severus know? Did Harry?

As he turned to slip through the opening in his tent, his arm was caught by one of Greyback’s cronies.

“Oh no. You’re not going to tell your stupid friends that we’re coming.” He leered into Remus’ face. “You think we didn’t know that you’ve been sending them information? Did you think that information was real?” He laughed at Remus’ suddenly wooden face. “Why would we allow your perversions with that half-Muggle Death Eater, if it weren’t to make you believe what he was selling you?”

Remus spent the rest of the afternoon being dragged around after Greyback and thinking furiously. He couldn’t believe that Severus had been lying. First of all, he didn’t want to make the same mistake he’d made with Sirius. Secondly, and more importantly, he couldn’t believe that the Severus he’d known since they were both eleven would have sex with him for any reason other than desire. He didn’t think anything could make Severus expose himself the way sex—making love did.

Once he came to that conclusion, his other concerns fell away. The battle was coming, and all he needed to do was make sure he, and his chosen mate, lived through it.

***

Battle was more confusing than he’d expected. It was dark, even with the moon ghosting through the sky, and everyone seemed to be wearing dark colours. Even his sense of smell was blunted by the miasma of blood that filled the air. He tried to kill only those wearing white masks, trusting his ability to identify Severus to ensure he didn’t hurt the one he cared about most.

Suddenly he saw Harry and Minerva striding across the field. He loped to catch up with them, getting close enough to hear her speak.

“Harry,” she said, leaning close to the young man’s ear, “he’s over there.” She pointed, and Remus saw Severus standing, wand raised, mask half off. He yelped with joy – Severus was still alive – and changed directions.

By the time he got close, Harry was speaking to Severus, his voice harsh and raspy. “You won’t make it off the killing field, Snape. I’ve been looking forward to this for months.”

Severus’ face knotted. “Remus said he’d made a bargain with you.”

Remus saw the moon’s light flash off Harry’s eyes. “Remus lied.”

At that, Remus felt like he’d been kicked in the ribs. He turned to look at Severus, hoping…

Severus had straightened, standing tall and clear against the moon. “Remus would never lie to—“ The brilliant light flaring from the tip of Harry’s wand cut him off before he could finish. Harry watched him crumple to the ground, kicked the body once, then turned back to Minerva.

Remus found himself crouched as low to the ground as he could get, terrified that Harry would see him. He couldn’t believe—Harry must have just stunned him, he couldn’t have actually… Once Harry and Minerva were gone, Remus crawled over to where Severus had fallen.

He was dead. His body was still warm, but Remus’ nose – and soul – could feel the emptiness in the husk left behind. For one last moment he struggled to remain Remus, to suppress Moony—surely Harry had a reason—but then a red haze filled his vision and all he could do was follow.

He howled, the one howl he’d never called before; the hunting howl filled the air around him, filled his head, his heart, dripped like poison from his fangs. Then, following the wisp of scent remaining, he went to find his enemy.

As he hunted, he slashed at anything in his way, strands of bushy hair caught in his teeth. He saw a flash of silver and turned to see a rat. Pouncing quickly, he snatched at it and tossed it like a doll. Finally, ahead, he saw the one he sought, standing at the top of a hill, alone with someone else.

With a yelping snarl, he threw himself at the smaller figure, snapping and tearing. He saw that the enemy had been using that stick he’d held, that some light had gone shooting off into the darkness, but all he cared about was the hot feel of blood running down his throat and his chest. Standing on top of his dying enemy, he howled his triumph to the sky.

Just then, a movement to his right made him spin, but not quickly enough. There was a burst of terrible pain in his chest, the haunting echo of a voice he knew, and then darkness swirled up like a cloak and covered him.

***

The room was small and cosy. Warm silk-covered walls were interrupted by deep-set windows with heavy velvet curtains and comfortable window seats. A bright summer afternoon showed through the windows, and the gentle sound of bees filtered into the room. One wall had a small fireplace, with an ornate table in front of it. A large tea-set covered the table; more food than could be eaten by any three people filled every available space. Two teacups sat on smaller tables at either side of two heavy wingchairs.

“It was only luck that I was there at all,” Minerva said, taking a sip from her cup and setting it down. “I had been watching over another part of the battle, but something told me I should come back.” She leaned forward and patted her dark-haired companion’s knee. “It’s been so long,” she said, leaning further forward and kissing him deeply on the lips. “I missed you, Tom.”

 _fin_


End file.
